


mais dans tes bras, je m'en moque

by Anonymous



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marc Marquez (mentioned), Remy Gardner (mentioned), mostly fluff tbh, they're both just Very Supportive Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Between a crash and a retirement, Jerez hasn't been kind to Fabio or to Alex. They find a little comfort in each other.





	mais dans tes bras, je m'en moque

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Jerez 2019, when Fabio got pole and then held P3 for much of the race before his bike died, and Alex was involved in a nasty first lap incident.  
> Title is from Florent Mothe's Alléluia [C'est La Crise] - it translates to "but in your arms, I don't care".

Fabio cries when he gets back to the garage - who wouldn’t? He cries, and shouts, and tries to make sense of the situation because it’s just not _fair_. His first pole position, a chance at a podium, his best ever race, and it’s all taken away from him just like that. He knows there are cameras trained on him, but he can’t really bring himself to care. If they want to watch his pain, take pleasure in it, they can. It doesn’t bother him.

Eventually, he pulls himself together enough to go and give his interviews. He tries to put a positive spin on the situation - one which he doesn’t believe now, but hopes he might later - and shift any blame from the team. It wasn’t their fault any more than it was his. The media are sympathetic, but Fabio’s not sure he even wants their sympathy right now, and it’s more than a relief to finally stumble into his motorhome. There, he can shout and cry some more, and then stay up late, alternating between checking Instagram (a mistake, he knows, but he can’t help it) and flicking through some rubbish magazine. He briefly thinks about calling Alex, but reminds himself that his boyfriend had just as bad a day as he did, and he probably wanted to be alone right now.

It’s just gone midnight when Fabio hears a knock at the door. He frowns, more in confusion than displeasure, and then decides he’d best find out who else was up at this time after a race. When he opens the door, he finds none other than Alex, his hair a mess, wearing a hoodie that Fabio quickly recognises as one of his own. His eyes are trained on the ground, but judging by his appearance, Fabio would bet that they’re rimmed with red.

  “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know where to go, so I…” Alex’s voice is soft, barely more than a whisper.

By way of reply, Fabio takes Alex’s hand and leads him inside, closing the door behind him. He can feel Alex trembling slightly - he could be generous, and blame it on the cool night air, but this is Jerez in May, and there’s no way Alex is just cold. They sit down on the sofa, next to Fabio’s abandoned magazine.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Alex shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and rests his head on Fabio’s shoulder. Fabio leans into his touch and brings one hand up to gently stroke Alex’s hair. They stay like that for a while, perfectly silent, until Alex begins to speak:

  “I… I love what I do. What we do. And normally, I would say that I wouldn’t change it for the world. But on days like today, I can’t help but feel like I’m just not cut out for it. I could’ve… I could’ve killed Remy today. I don’t even know how I managed to avoid him. But the worst thing is that that’s not even what scares me most.”

Alex pauses for a moment.

  “The worst thing is the thought of something _happening_. I was fine about it all, until after the race, when I saw the photos. I could’ve lost everything. I might never have had a chance to see you, or my parents, or my brother again. And that’s a risk I take nearly every single week, and it’s one that Marc takes, and it’s one that you take too, and…”

He takes an unsteady breath.

  “I’m so scared.”

Fabio freezes, unable to think of anything he could do or say that might be of any comfort to Alex. After a few moments, Alex lets out a choked sob, and Fabio pulls him closer and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

  “It’s true, we’re taking risks. Racing is dangerous. But it’s not the only thing that’s dangerous. Every time you say goodbye to someone, it could be your last time seeing them: they might fall down the stairs and break their neck, or get in a horrific car crash, or have a heart attack.”

Alex begins to cry harder, and Fabio decides it’s probably time to get to the point.

  “But the thing is, most of the time that doesn’t happen. You say goodbye to your parents, go away for a week, and when you come back they’re still there, as healthy and happy as they ever were. Racing doesn’t really increase our chances of getting hurt - think about how many people are defeated by something as simple as a patch of ice!”

That gets a quiet laugh from Alex.

  “You and I, we have a 100% survival rate against everything that’s ever tried to kill us. I don’t know about you, but I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but slowly his breathing calms and his sobs are reduced to sniffles. He stays curled up against Fabio, his head buried in the crook of Fabio’s neck, and silence settles over them once again. It’s peaceful, and Fabio, holding the boy he loves on a warm night in Spain, is just beginning to consider that he’s the luckiest person on earth, when Alex sits up so that he’s looking into Fabio’s eyes.

  “You were incredible today, you know?” he murmurs.

Fabio sighs, and Alex reaches for his hand.

  “I know it sucks. But these things happen, and it doesn’t mean that you didn’t get pole, or that you didn’t have an amazing race.”

  “That doesn’t stop it hurting like hell.”

Alex gives him a small smile, almost apologetic, and Fabio decides that he could probably die there and then. Given the conversation they’ve just had, however, that doesn’t seem practical, so he settles for kissing Alex gently instead.

  “Would you rather just forget about it?”

  “Please.”

Alex draws him close, so that Fabio is now the one with his head on Alex’s shoulder. Fabio can’t help but cry, again, but these tears feel less like an outburst, and more like a _release_. By the time he’s finished, he feels lighter, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and it’s such a relief that he would’ve burst into tears if he’d had any left.

  “Thank you.” He hopes that his voice, hoarse from hours of sobbing and shouting, conveys the gratitude he feels to Alex.

  “Thank _you_ ,” Alex replies, and Fabio has to laugh at the sweetness of the boy who came to him looking for comfort, instead spent what might’ve been an hour holding Fabio as he cried, and still thanks him with a sincere note in his voice.

  “Hey, what’s so funny?”

  “It’s nothing. Just… I love you.”

Alex smiles.

  “I love you too.”

They fall asleep in their clothes on the sofa, limbs tangled, too tired to consider how much they’ll regret it in the morning. And of course, they do regret it. Fabio wakes up to a stiff neck, sunlight streaming into his eyes, and what seems to be Alex’s hair tickling his chin. The worst thing is, he doesn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
